the end

I have gone back and forth about whether or not I want to remember what the end of S's life was like. I have decided that I do, so I am going to write, what essentially is his death story.

Saturday, June 25th, 2011
I don't remember what we did Saturday morning, but I know that in the afternoon, S was working in the yard and I took the big kids to my parents house to spend the night so he and I could work on the house that night since we were listing it for sale on Monday so we could build our forever home.

I remember that he didn't hug the kids goodbye because he was sweaty and dirty from working outside so he just kissed them. They thought it was hilarious that as we were pulling out they were calling him by his first name.

Saturday night, we finished a few little things around the house and then we sat in the living room watching tv. I showed S some clothes I got for the kids for next year and he actually looked at them. Not how he usually glanced at them and said okay, but he actually paid attention. I thought that was a little weird, but whatever. He said he was really exhausted from all the work on the house and all the jobs going at work and he really just wanted to ride his motorcycle. I said "okay, then ride" and he said he would the next day.

I was tired before he was so I went to bed. He was watching a movie on the couch. I woke up at some point in the night and he wasn't in bed. I intended on going to get him off the couch, but G started fussing to I was going to nurse her and then go get him but I guess I fell back asleep nursing her.

Sunday, June 26, 2011
I woke up Sunday morning and took a pregnancy test. 2+ weeks earlier, I told S that he got me pregnant. I just knew. I took the test and it was negative, so I went and sat next to him on the couch and said "it says negative, but I'm pregnant." He said "okay" and we went about our morning. I cleaned the house and he worked in the yard.

I told him that I was going to go walking with a friend at noon and then I would come pick him up so we could go to the kids swim lessons at my parents house at 2. He said he needed to get something from work and he wanted to ride his motorcycle anyway so he would just ride up to work and then meet me at my parents. I agreed.

When I was ready to go, we didn't hug because he said he was dirty (I so wish I had hugged him sweaty and gross and all). We said I love you and kissed and I left.

I headed towards the gas station because I knew I needed gas, and on the way, I realized my tank was full. I stopped and texted him to tell him thank you for filling up my tank and I remember thinking how weird it was that I was texting him that. I have never ever done that before. I usually would just tell him when I saw him.

I got to the park and we walked a couple of miles and then headed to swim lessons. When I got to my parents house I texted S again to tell him I was there.

At 2, when the swim instructor got there I thought it was weird that S wasn't there yet. He always said "if you're on time, you're late!" so it wasn't like him to be late. We got in the pool and started the lessons.

After a few minutes, I decided I wanted a picture of the kids, so I got out and picked up my phone to take a picture. I noticed I had a missed call from "restricted" but didn't think much of it. I took the picture, posted it on facebook, and got back in the water.

A few minutes later, my phone rang again and I asked my mom who it was. She said "restricted" and I asked her to answer it. I knew it was bad. A police officer asked for me and I just knew.

I got out of the pool and he told me that S had been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. I asked if he was okay and he said I just really needed to get to the hospital. I asked if he was on his motorcycle, even though I knew he was, and he just said "yes" in a really solemn tone. This was about 2:20

I started screaming and crying that we needed to go. I kept saying "I need her" and pointing at G. We stuck her in her carseat naked (she had been in the pool with me) and I got in the car soaking wet.

My mom drove my van to the hospital and my dad followed behind. My friend and the swim instructor stayed with my big kids.

I got to the hospital around 2:45 and I was pretty hysterical. They wouldn't tell me anything and they wouldn't let me see him. Finally, they had someone bring us to a different room and they told us they were doing scans, and I could see him in 30 minutes. Then they came back in and said it would be longer. And longer. And longer. Finally, a doctor came in and said he was really really sick and she didn't know if he would be okay. She told me he had some pretty serious brain injuries and all of his limbs were broken. She said his heart was bruised. She said he looked bad and asked if I wanted to see him. YES!

I went back to him around 5:45 or 6 and he did look bad. He was pretty beaten and swollen, but if felt so good to see him. I held his hand and kissed his head and told him I loved him.

The doctor then said that they couldn't keep his blood pressure stable and they wanted to try to put his leg in a traction device to get some pressure of the broken artery in his right leg. I signed the papers and waited in the hall while they did that.

It didn't work. Then she said I had 2 choices. She could do surgery on his leg to repair the artery, but he probably wouldn't survive the operation, or we could do nothing and he would die. I told her we had to try and again, I signed the papers. They also had me sign saying they could clean the debris out of his right leg and his left wrist if he was stable enough after she fixed the artery.

He went back to surgery around 7. They said it would take 2-3 hours. After midnight they came out and told me that he survived the surgery and they were able to clean out the wounds as well since he did so well. Thank God! I went back to see him for a few minutes and they told me I needed to go to the waiting room until visiting hours at 5am. I reluctantly left and waited until 5.

Sunday, June 27, 2011

I was in his room at 5 and his nurse said his tests were looking a lot better than they thought they would. Things were looking up! I started talking to him and the nurse told me he couldn't hear me, but not to talk because I would over-stimulate him. Didn't make sense to me, but I just say next to him holding his hand. Then at 5:30, his heartrate went way up (or down) and his blood pressure went way down (or up) and they rushed me out of the room to run tests.

I went back in around 6:30 maybe and they were still trying to regulate his heartrate and his blood pressure. Up to this point he was breathing a little on his own, but a machine was doing most of the work. Visiting hours were closed, but they let me stay in his room. This is when I knew it was bad. The nurse said "we usually don't let people back here at this time, but you can stay because..." He never finished the sentence.

At 7:10, he took two big, deep breaths, all on his own and then again his heartrate and blood pressure went crazy. They rushed me out of the room again and when I came back in, I could tell he was different. His body seemed empty. I think this is when he died.

The doctors started talking about doing surgery on Wednesday and I was so thankful that he was going to come home with me. They said he wouldn't be the same and he would need a lot of help, but I didn't care. He was alive and I wanted him any way I could have him. I later found out, that even at this point, he had no brain activity. He was brain dead.

Throughout the day, his heartrate, blood pressure, and oxygenation levels weren't good, but I still had hope. At some point in the afternoon, they started talking like he wasn't going to make it again. I knew he was gone. My mom was yelling at him to open his eyes or squeeze my hand, but I knew. The doctor came in to the do the tests that prove no brain activity and I left for that. When I came back in I just looked at her and said "I know. I know." and put my head on S's chest. She then said "time of death is 6:55pm"

One Month

I can't believe it has been a whole month since Shannon died. I can't believe it has been 30 days since I have seen him, held him, kissed him. My life has changed so much in the last month.


I think about him constantly. When I am driving, every time I come to an intersection I look and don't understand how the driver didn't see him. When I come home and see his car in the driveway I think of him. When I get dressed in the morning and see his clothes in the closet, when I see the couch the loved to fall asleep on, when I go to the grocery store and I don't get the things he loved, when I go to call him on my way home to see when he will be home out of habit, when I got to sleep at night and he is not next to me, when I don't see his shoes all over the house, when I have to feed the dog or put the kids to bed alone or brush their teeth or turn on the air conditioner. Everything brings me back to him.


This whole thing is starting to seem real and it is making me really sad, understandably, I hope. I feel like I need to make a conscious decision to make the best of a bad situation though. I feel like I can either mope around sad all day and all night, wishing that it were different, or I can realize that this sucks, but I need to make the best of it. I choose the latter. I have kids so I have to choose the latter. With that said, I most definitely have the sad, mopey, wishing times too.


Because I am making the choice though, I think it will help if I make a list of things I am thankful for. Even though this sucks, I have a lot to still be thankful for.


*I am thankful that I got to say goodbye to him. I told him things I wanted to him to know and things I didn't say often enough and I am so thankful that I was able to that.

*I'm thankful that I got to know him for 13 years. We had a lot of laughs over the years.

*I'm thankful that we have 3 amazing kids and I get to tell them how awesome their dad is.

*I'm thankful I have such awesome friends. I seriously have some of the best people in the world in my life. For that I am so blessed.

*I'm thankful that we were in such a good place in our marriage when he died. We have had our ups and downs over the years, always loving each other, but sometimes more than others.

*I'm thankful we were still head over heels for each other even after 7 1/2 years of marriage.

*I'm thankful that he died doing something he loved doing.

*I'm thankful that no one else was hurt in the accident.

*I'm thankful that he probably wasn't in any physical pain.

*I'm thankful that our family's loss gave life to 3 other families.

I have so much to still be thankful for and I am trying to focus on that. Really, I am just so thankful that he picked me to spend his life with. I am so thankful for him. He did so much for us and he was the backbone of our home. He will always, always be loved.

my first breakdown over nothing

I took the kids to a Big Wheels Race tonight (where V was ecstatic that he won a participation ribbon--soo cute--S would have been so proud of him). It was about 108 (million) degrees outside and I was hot and the kids were hot and they were tired since it was already past their bedtime and I was tired because I just don't sleep anymore and it was just not a good combination. As we are getting in the car, I realized that a nut fell off my stroller and another screw was falling out.


I just lost it. I mean bawling, crying, screaming, lost it. I just started crying right there in the parking lot. Uncontrollably crying. It was bad.


I am aware that it is not a big deal. I know that it is an easy fix. But I still lost it when my mom asked me if S had nuts somewhere in the garage (not her fault at all--she was trying to help).


I know he does. I mean the man could fix anything and had about every tool/toolish thing you could imagine. But he's not here to fix it. I have to go dig through his things (which he hated me doing--he might have been more anal than me about his things being out of place if you can believe it) and find a nut and fix the stroller.


That was his job. I don't want to do his job. I want him here to do it. I dread the day I have to go through his things and start figuring out what to keep and what to not keep. When I get to that point it means he's really not coming back.


You don't get rid of someones things when they are coming home. I think it is starting to become real. I don't really want it to be real. If its real, then its real and that sucks.


I want to keep pretending he is coming home. That he is going to walk in and say "ha! I really got you! See, I told you you'd miss me if I was gone. The trash doesn't take out itself!" I just want him back.


This whole situation just sucks. I don't want to be here. I miss my husband.

the world keeps on going

It is so crazy to me that my life has changed so much over the last 3 weeks and everyone else's life is just the same. When we were in the ICU waiting room during H's surgery (really the only time I was away from him) I kept thinking about the other families there. They had obviously been there a long time and how my life was just going on like normal while their world was upside down. It is so crazy.

I can't even look at facebook. H used to tell me I was addicted to it and now that he is gone I can't even get on. I don't expect other people's lives to stop, but it just seems weird to me that they haven't. I know that sounds crazy.

I can't sleep at night. I just don't feel tired. I want to sleep, but the tired just won't come. During the day I am exhausted, but not at night.

Today I talked to the insurance guy from the guy who hit H. He was very emotional and it was weird. The man who hit him found out yesterday that he died. Oddly, I feel badly for that man. I mean he has to live with the fact that he killed someone. I feel bad for my kids and me too since we have to live without H, but I keep thinking about the other guy. I try to put myself in his shoes. The whole thing is just crazy.

widow at 28

It is starting to hit me that he is really gone. He was supposed to be gone this weekend anyway on a "business" fishing trip, so I think reality is starting to set in and I don't like it.

I just miss him. I want him back. I don't know how I am supposed to live the rest of my life without him. I don't know how I'm supposed to raise three kids on my own. It's just not fair.

Sometimes I find myself thinking about what I could change. If I could change just one thing. If he has left 3o seconds later, or 30 seconds earlier, or stopped for gas, or worn his boot instead of his shoes so he wouldn't have taken the time to tie them, or left his keys on the counter, or didn't, or anything. One tiny little thing could have changed everything.

People have said some crazy things to me though and I have learned a lot over the last 13 days.

Cherish every kiss. Every single one. Two weeks ago, when we said bye as I was leaving, we kissed and said I love you, but I didn't cherish it. It was so routine for us. I wish I had cherished that kiss.

Tell the people you love that you love them. We did and I am so thankful that the last words we said to each other were "I love you"

If you are riding a motorcycle, WEAR A HELMET! He was, and while it didn't save his life, it did keep him alive long enough for me to say goodbye to him while he was still alive.

Talk to your family about organ donation. I am so thankful that he told me he wanted his organs donated. It was a decision I didn't have to make. I'm pretty sure his exact words were "Donate them. I'll be dead. I don't fucking need them."

Talk to your family about whether or not you would want to live on a machine. I am so thankful I didn't have to make that decision either, but if I did, he made it for me. Again, his words were "Pull the damn plug. I don't want to fucking live like that"

Get life insurance, like yesterday. It is so cheap and I am so thankful that while I was sitting in the hospital with him after he was gone, I wasn't worrying about how I was going to feed our kids. I could really focus on him. He cared so much about us and that was sort of his last gift to his family.

Get a will. Having a will has made things so much easier on me. Again, super cheap and I am glad we have one.

Don't tell a "young widow" that she is young and you are sure she will find someone new. While I can't imagine ever loving another man the way I love him, I understand that some people do remarry. Still, I don't want to hear that. It hurts. He can't be replaced.

Don't tell a widow with young kids how hard it is going to be. I am fully aware that my life isn't going to be what I had planned and the life of my kids isn't going to be what we had planned for them. I know it is going to be hard, please don't rub it in, I don't really have a choice.

I was looking at old pictures of us and I got to thinking about how in those moments we had no idea what the future would hold for us. We had plans to grow old together and retire on an island somewhere. Plans have changed, but if someone would have told me then that this is how my marriage would be, I would have done it exactly the same (except I would have cherished that last kiss). The last 10 years with him have been amazing. We had our fights and we had our good times and I cherish it all. I would do it all again.

I just want to hug him one more time and tell him I love him. I just want him back. Even if just for a second.